


The Extra Vows

by lavieboheme0919



Series: Three is Not a Crowd [9]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Anal Gaping, BDSM Scene, Barebacking, Biting, Bondage and Discipline, Bruises, Cemetery, Daddy Kink, Daddy Play, Dildos, Dirty Talk, Dom Chris Argent, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Play, Edgeplay, Engaged Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Impact Play, Incest, Injury Recovery, Jealousy, Leather, M/M, Marathon Sex, Marriage, Married Chris Argent/Peter Hale, Meeting the Parents, Multiple Orgasms, Oaths & Vows, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Parent-Child Relationship, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Polyamory, Praise Kink, References to Anal Fisting, Rope Bondage, Semi-Public Sex, Sexual Humor, So much Smut at the End, Sounding, Stag Nights & Bachelor Parties, Sub Stiles, Threesome - M/M/M, Trust, Uncle/Nephew Incest, Wedding Planning, and sprinkled throughout, bondage suit, but especially at the end, public urination
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2017-06-28
Packaged: 2018-11-20 14:35:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11337480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavieboheme0919/pseuds/lavieboheme0919
Summary: Stiles and Derek are engaged, but Stiles' dad still doesn't know about the other two people in the relationship. They recruit Talia to help break the news. Peter is worried that after Stiles and Derek marry, he might be pushed to the wayside and works to circumvent that... leading to some minor jealousy and cold feet from Derek. Chris and Peter then plan and execute Stiles' and Derek's respective bachelor parties as they all get ready for Stiles and Derek to tie the knot.**This is part of a series and heavily references prior events.*****If any tags are missing, please let me know and I'll add them***





	The Extra Vows

"Are you sure you don't want me to come?" Peter asked between kisses as he thrust into Stiles.

"Of course I want you to come," Stiles replied. "Why do you think I'm having sex with you?" Derek, who was behind Peter, thrusting gently into his uncle gave a hearty laugh.

"I meant to California," Peter elaborated unnecessarily. Stiles knew exactly what he'd meant.

"Talia agrees that it's probably not going to be the best idea. She's going to come with us to explain everything to my dad. Hopefully if he can see that she's okay with it, maybe he can be, too. Now let's finish this conversation later… I'm getting really close," Stiles said, returning to making out with his lover.

All of the bags were packed and waiting by the door. They had two hours they needed to kill before they had to head to the airport and Peter knew exactly how he wanted to do it. Chris hadn't been able to take the day off, but left a neatly penned letter expressing his love and safe wishes as the younger half of their relationship travelled across the country.

When they each had put two loads into each other, they pulled their clothes on and headed to the car.

"If something happens and your dad freaks out, I've already talked to Talia. You can go stay with her," Peter said. "Are you nervous?"

Stiles looked to the back seat where Derek was gazing at him with a blank smile. "I'm going to be fine," he said.

Peter walked with them up to the security section. They each kissed him goodbye. "I love you boys," Peter he said with a husky voice as he hugged them tightly. "I wish I could go with you."

"You've got physical therapy and doctor appointments," Derek said, resting his hands on Peter's chest. He stole one last kiss from Peter's lips. "Don't worry about us. We'll be fine."

"I love you, Peter," Stiles said, placing a kiss on his cheek before they passed into the security line.

"I'll send lots of dick pics!" Peter called after them, eliciting angry glares from horrified parents. Their reaction only amused him as he waited until he couldn't see Derek and Stiles any longer before finally heading back to his car and returning home. They were only leaving for a few days, but the house felt so lonely without them.

* * *

"I'm pretty sure I got to second base with that TSA Agent," Stiles laughed as he sipped way-overpriced coffee from within the concourse.

"Mine was handsy, too," Derek noted. "I don't like people touching me like that unless it's one of my boyfriends." He paused for a second before kissing the side of Stiles' head. "Or my fiancé." Hearing that word come from Derek's mouth filled Stiles with a warm giddiness.

"I don't know," Stiles shrugged. "A cavity search might have been fun."

Peter used his miles to get them bumped up to first class. Derek let Stiles take the window seat. They held hands as they waited for the plane to finish boarding. "Are we really going to tell my dad about you and Peter?" Stiles asked as they taxied to the runway for takeoff.

"In less than a year, we're getting married. I plan on staying that way until I die," Derek said. "Hiding this secret from your dad indefinitely… that's the kind of stress that can destroy a marriage. Mom is going to be there when we tell him. Hopefully if he can see that she's okay with it, it'll be easier for him to accept it."

"He's going to have a heart attack, you know that, right?" Stiles said.

"It will be fine," Derek lifted their hands and kissed the back of Stiles'.

* * *

Sitting twenty feet away from each other, completely unaware of the other's existence, were a man and a woman. The woman was engrossed in a book on her e-reader. The man was anxiously rubbing his hands, calloused and rough from age and hard work. Both were waiting on a son to arrive.

As Noah Stilinski checked his phone for a text from his son saying that they had landed and were taxiing to the gangway, Talia Hale received a similar text from her own son. Both replied to the text with the same simple message. _See you in a few! Love you!_

Talia went back to reading her book, one of those dime store mystery novels. She had already figured out who the killer was back in the second chapter, but she appreciated the prose and decided to see how the book ended anyway.

Noah's stomach was in a knot. The last time he saw his son, Stiles was an emotional wreck. He hadn't eaten or showered in days. He was so lost in the grief of his failed relationship that he couldn't function. Noah didn't want to admit it, but he was glad that Stiles wasn't seeing the two older men anymore. He had long since known that his son was bisexual. He figured it out when he walked in on nine-year-old Stiles playing with his action figures. Wonder Woman was marrying Superman, but Batman and GI Joe were next in line to say their vows and enter into holy matrimony.

Of course, as a parent, it pained him to see his child suffering. He'd been filled in on some of the big events that had happened to him over the course of the ensuing year. He strongly encouraged his son to continue seeing the Derek boy he spoke about. Noah didn't care that he was the nephew of the man who broke his little boy's heart. He was much closer in age to Stiles and there was only one of him.

Through gritted teeth he accepted the fact that Stiles had reconciled with his older exes, but was relieved when Stiles told him he was still dating Derek. It had slipped the boy's mind to mention that he was also dating Chris and Peter. He even sent flowers when Stiles, crying and clearly distraught, told him that the Peter guy had been stabbed.

This incident worried him the most. Being a sheriff, naturally he looked up the police reports and news articles around the event. The man responsible for the stabbing had been linked to a ring of cartels whose illegal activities were being aided by the District Attorney's office of New York City. He nearly lost his mind when a police briefing mentioned that the four of them had been intended targets. The other three were just lucky. He spent three hours trying to get Stiles to tell him exactly what he'd done to get a hit put out on him, his boyfriend, and his exes.

But as he saw his son, his heart filled with the happiness of a parent whose only reason for living was back in arm's reach. Stiles was walking hand-in-hand with his boyfriend, who even Noah had to admit was _damn_ good-looking, and he was smiling and laughing with his whole body in the way that had since he was a child. He laughed just like his mother, Claudia used to laugh. This was everything he wanted for his son… he wanted him happy. He'd certainly prefer that Stiles lived closer, but he was happy. He was healthy. He was loved.

Talia instinctively looked up as her son came into view. She'd always had a knack of being able to know whenever one of her children entered a room. In facial structure, Derek definitely favored her, but he carried himself like his father. Talia slipped her e-reader back into her purse and stood up, slowly approaching her son and soon-to-be son-in-law.

Both parents walked toward their children, unaware that they were waiting for the same two people until each hugged his own parent. When both Talia and Noah had released their sons from the tight hugs, they turned to one another and shook hands, introducing themselves.

At Derek's suggestion, the four of them went to a restaurant to eat. Both he and Stiles were starving. As the four of them ate dinner, Talia and Noah shared embarrassing stories about their children's childhoods, causing both of the younger men to blush a furious shade of crimson.

Noah invited them all back to his house for a few drinks and so that he could continue getting to know Derek's mom. "I've got quite a bit of money saved for the wedding, Derek," she said.

"We don't actually want a big wedding," Stiles admitted. "We'd rather have a small one with a few people we love and then have a nice honeymoon."

"Understandable," Noah said. "That's exactly what your mom and I did. We got married at the courthouse, then hopped on a plane to Tahiti."

Talia smiled. "Well the funds are there. Just let me know what you need and I'll take care of it." She cast a glance at Derek, as if to signal him. There was one more matter that they needed to address. In text messages, Derek had agreed to have Talia brooch the subject. Derek nodded and Talia then gave a subtle nod to Stiles. That was his cue to fill his father's whiskey glass.

 _I'm going to hell,_ he thought as he added more ice cubes and poured the thick amber liquid.

Talia waited until he'd gotten a few more sips in before beginning. "Noah, there's one more thing that we need to discuss."

Noah leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He was finding Talia Hale to be beautiful and charming. Maybe it was the alcohol… maybe it was nearly 20 years as a widower. Either way, he was wholly interested in anything this woman had to say.

She had rehearsed it in her head a million times. "I'm sure you're aware that before Stiles and Derek fell in love, your son was in a romantic relationship with my brother, Peter, and his husband, Chris."

Noah nodded. "How's he doing, by the way? After the stabbing, I mean."

Talia smiled warmly. "He's doing quite well. He's making a full recovery."

"Eighteen stab wounds, multiple internal organs hit," Noah recounted. "He's lucky to be alive."

"Quite so," Talia agreed. "We're glad he made it through. But we need to make sure that you're aware that they are still in the picture romantically and sexually speaking."

Noah blinked rapidly for a few seconds. "So Stiles is marrying Derek, but also still dating and presumably having sex with your brother and his husband," he said to Talia, turning to Derek he added, "your uncles."

"That would be correct," Talia said.

To Derek, he asked, "And you're alright with that? Knowing what he's doing with them?"

Derek nodded as Talia said, "Because Derek is part of it, too."

One could almost hear the screeching of breaks or the scratch of a record player as Stiles watched his father process this. "You," he said, pointing at Derek, "Are fucking your uncles?" He turned to Talia. "And you're okay with this?"

"Noah, I know this is a lot to process. I wasn't exactly thrilled about it when I first found out, either. But they love one another so incredibly much," she said softly. "They are open and honest with each other. They support each other emotionally. Their relationship functions at its best with the four of them in it."

"Dad, I didn't want to keep this secret from you anymore," Stiles said. "I understand if you're upset, but I had to be honest with you."

Noah finished off the liquor in his glass, poured himself another and downed that one, too.

"Dad, is this something you can be okay with?" Stiles asked.

"Do I even have a choice in the matter?" Noah asked. He looked from his son to Derek. "I thought you were going to be good for him. I thought that maybe he finally found the guy who was going to keep him out of trouble."

"And he still is that person you thought he was," Talia assured him. Turning to Stiles and Derek, she said, "Can you give us a few moments?"

Both sons nodded and got up. Stiles led Derek upstairs to his room. Derek smiled as he took in the band posters, shelves of knickknacks, a lacrosse net, and a trophy or two. A computer desk sat in front of the large window. The thing that struck out to him the most was the corkboard with pins and strings of different colors connecting photos, newspaper clippings, printed articles, and handwritten notes. "What the hell?" he whispered.

Stiles chuckled sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. "So remember how I said I liked to help my dad on cases without him knowing… and that ours weren't the first felonies I'd committed?" he said.

Derek turned from the corkboard to face his fiancé. "What do the colors mean?"

Stiles moved closer. "It's the different stages of the investigation. The green pins and strings are parts of the mystery I've already solved. Yellow means it's in progress. Red is unsolved."

"What about the blue ones?" Derek asked.

"Oh… blue was my favorite color. It's pretty," Stiles replied.

"Was?" he asked. "What is it now?"

Stiles turned to Derek, resting his palms on the man's chest. "Green."

"What caused it to change?" Derek asked curiously.

"I spent time looking into your eyes."

* * *

Peter was waiting with luggage in-hand as Chris walked through the door.

Eyeing him suspiciously, Chris asked, "And where are you going?"

"Talia called. Stiles' dad wants to meet us," Peter replied.

"Peter, you're still recovering from having been stabbed 18 times. I know that you've been having a bit of a lucky streak lately, in terms of survival, but I don't think we need to test it against Stiles' dad's shotgun," Chris sighed. "He's a sheriff, remember? My guess is he doesn't often miss."

Peter laughed and stole a deep kiss from his husband, pulling them together as he enjoyed the feeling of their bodies in such close proximity. "Come on… This is important."

"Okay, but you not dying is important, too," Chris replied, trying in vain to pull out of his husband's grip.

"What makes you so certain that I'm the one who's gonna die?" Peter asked.

Chris stared at Peter with a completely deadpan face. "You're the one most likely to make a casual comment about the myriad of ways in which you've defiled his son. You're like 86% of the reason why that kid can't wear anything white at his own wedding."

"You're only claiming 14%?" Peter asked incredulously.

"Well, Derek has some part in it… I'm claiming 10%," Chris corrected.

Peter withdrew his arms from around Chris and took several steps away from him. "Then allow me to submit into evidence the time you had him wear a Bluetooth-enabled butt plug you could control from your phone while the two of you went grocery shopping."

"Objection," Chris said with a smile. "He's the one who bought it and asked me to do it."

"Counter-objection!" Peter said.

"That's not a thing," Chris laughed.

" _Counter. Objection,_ " Peter said more forcefully, struggling hard not to laugh. "We can't go back to that Trader Joe's because you made him come so hard in the wine section that he knocked down an entire display of expensive imported Cabernet."

"That was a good vintage," Chris said softly.

"I wouldn't know. I paid for it… but the mop drank it," Peter replied. "Exhibit B: the day I came home and found you in your leather, Stiles tied up in a gimp suit, and your arm inside him up to the elbow. When you unzipped his mouth, he suggested you guys do a ventriloquist act."

"Okay… 60/40 and we give Derek a free pass," Chris said, not able to counter-argue that one.

Peter shook his head. "51/48 with Derek claiming the remaining 1%," Peter replied. "Or do I need to bring up Folsom… where you actually  _did_ the ventriloquist act?" As if to emphasize his point, Peter held up a fist and slowly extended and wiggled his fingers.

Chris' eyes widened. "I didn't think you knew about that one…"

"PornHub is a very educational website," Peter replied. "The prosecution rests."

* * *

Stiles couldn't think of a time he had ever felt more awkward or tense. They were all seated around a table in a park. Stiles thought it was good to have open room to escape if necessary. Noah promised to behave, but Peter wouldn't give the same promise…even to Chris and Talia.

"It's good to finally meet the men who used my son as their personal sex toy and then broke his heart," Noah said.

"Dad!" Stiles groaned.

"I assure you that everything that has transpired between us and Stiles was completely consensual," Chris said softly. "We love your son. Our relationship is more than just sex."

Noah stared at Peter who remained silent. He seemed dazed. If Stiles hadn't known better, he might have thought Peter was high. "Did you use protection?"

"What?" Peter asked.

"When you took my son's virginity, did you use protection?" Noah clarified. "Or even after that? I'm not sure what was so difficult about the question."

"No," Peter replied softly. "Stiles and I have never used condoms with each other."

Noah's face turned red with anger. "What if you had given him a disease?"

"I don't have any diseases," Peter replied through gritted teeth.

"You should have known better! He was just a boy!"

"He was twenty!" Peter snapped. "He was an adult, not a boy. I'm not a pedophile."

"Well, you fuck your nephew so…" Noah said.

"Noah, you and I discussed that. You told me you understood," Talia interjected. She could see how her brother was reacting and knew immediately why. This reminded him of their own father. The judgmental way he would interrogate Peter, asking questions to which he already knew the answer with the only goal to humiliate and insult his son. The way no answer was ever the right answer. "Peter has been through a lot." Beneath the table, she held one of Peter's hands in hers. Chris held the other. They were both rubbing the backs of his hands in an attempt to soothe him.

Chris saw as Peter's nostrils flared. They only ever flared like that when he had reached the point where he was so angry he wanted to cry, but dare not do so.

"Dad, I didn't ask them to fly across the country so that you could treat them this way," Stiles said. "They're good men. They love me and they make me happy. That should be enough for you."

"You're my son, Stiles," Noah said. "You are the only thing in this world I care about."

"I know, Dad," Stiles replied. "But they are part of my family now, too… especially since I'm marrying Derek."

"They broke your heart," Noah said.

"That was two years ago," Stiles said.

"When I broke up with your son, I did it because I was worried that I had been a bad influence on him and that I might be fucking up his future," Peter said. "It was the worst decision I ever made I hurt him worse than I ever feared. When I was lucky enough to get him back in my life, I promised him that I would never hurt him like that again."

"And I'm supposed to take your word on it?" Noah asked.

"That's all you have," Peter said. "That's all any of us have. We show each other love every single day in a million different ways, but at the end of the day, the words 'I love you' are just words. Eight letters that come together to form some arbitrary meaning that we've all agreed that they possess when arranged in that specific order. Without the actions, it's really nothing." Noah looked at Peter with an unreadable expression. Everyone else stared at him in shock. "I wasn't lucky enough to have a dad who showed me what love is… what it's supposed to look like. So the first man who told me he loved me, I took it at face value. He beat me up… he isolated me from everyone else… he…" Peter paused, taking a deep breath. He was shaking.

"You don't have to tell him this," Chris whispered.

"No… I do. He needs to understand," Peter replied. He took a few more deep, steadying breaths before looking Noah in the face. "I've only ever referred to it before as 'rough sex.' But I didn't want it. I ended up in the hospital a few times because of how badly he…" He couldn't say the word. He never said the word. If he said the word, that made it more real. That made it worse. He couldn't live in his euphemistic alternate reality where it had really just been _rough sex_ anymore.

"He raped you," Noah finished softly. The edge in his voice had completely faded and his features softened toward Peter.

Peter nodded slowly. "He said 'I love you' to me all the time, Noah. I thought that's what love was. The man I married," he indicated Chris with a gesture of his head, "taught me the real meaning of love. He said 'I love you' all the time. But he also showed it. I learned what it really was and how good it felt to have unconditional love from someone. When I met your son, I'll admit that it was just lust and sex at first. There weren't feelings there. But I grew to love him. And I made sure, I did everything I could to make sure he knew it and felt it before I _ever_ said it."

Noah's eyes shifted over toward his son, whose own eyes were misty as he, once again, heard the details of what Peter had gone through. "I'm sorry you went through that," Noah said softly. "I may have judged you too harshly and too soon." He placed his hand on Stiles' back. "This boy is my whole world. I've done everything I could to protect him and raising him by myself wasn't exactly easy. But I'm proud of the man he became." Stiles blushed a brilliant shade of red as he heard his father speak about him. "The person—or in this case, people—who get him need to be worthy of him."

"We'll try to be," Derek said softly.

Another awkward silence rested over them for several minutes until Noah finally said, "So what still needs to be done for the wedding?"

Stiles beamed. He knew that was his father's way of saying they had his blessing.

* * *

The Hale mansion was closer to the airport from which they were all departing back to New York. After the meeting with Noah, the Hales and Chris headed there. Stiles remained with his dad for a few more days. It was easy between them again. He told, in more detail, the story of what happened with the DA's office and how it solidified in him the desire to become a prosecutor to ensure that justice really _was_ being served.

When he got in the car to drive up to Talia's home, it was a tearful goodbye. He had genuinely enjoyed this visit with his father and vowed to himself to come back more often.

Nothing on the radio seemed to please his ear, so he connected his phone and played one of his favorite podcasts. _My Favorite Murder_ entertained him for the rest of the drive.

When he finally arrived, Peter was waiting for him. "Hey… there's something I'd like to do," he said softly after a deep, welcoming kiss.

"If you want to have sex, we can… but I'm pretty tired, so you're going to have to do most of the work," Stiles replied. "If I'm being completely honest, I'll probably just lie there."

Peter grinned. "We can do that later… but this is something I just want to do with you. I'll drive."

Those last two syllables were the magic words. Stiles tossed Peter the keys and climbed into the passenger side. Within minutes, he'd fallen asleep and his head was resting against the window.

It had been dusk when he first got to the Hale mansion. When they arrived at Peter's intended destination, night was definitely underway. "Where are we?" he asked groggily as he wiped sleep from his eyes.

"A cemetery," Peter replied.

"We've done a lot of kinky, kinda fucked up shit, Peter," Stiles said. "But sex in a cemetery is taking it too far… even for us."

Laughing, Peter replied, "No. We aren't going to have sex here. Although I am going to take a giant piss and you're welcome to as well. I've been chugging water the whole way here for that very reason."

Peter climbed out of the car and Stiles followed. The cemetery gates were locked, but Peter was able to pick the lock and grant them access.

Cemeteries always freaked Stiles out because his first visit to one was when he watched his mother's casket get lowered down into the earth. He could feel the lump forming in his throat as he remembered that day. The same sadness filled him every single time he visited the spot.

Peter led him across the rows of headstones towards a large marble building. _Of course they have a fucking mausoleum_ , Stiles thought. He expected them to go into the building, but instead, Peter stopped at a pair of nondescript headstones several yards to the east of the building. Using the flashlight on his phone, Peter illuminated the granite monuments. In a simple, yet elegant script was written the two names: Charles Theodoric Hale and Diana Corinne Beaumont Hale. Under their names were the dates of birth and death, but nothing else.

Stiles looked over toward the mausoleum. The name "HALE" was clearly emblazoned into the flawless marble of the building. "Why aren't they in the mausoleum?" Stiles asked.

"Since I am going to be buried there, Talia decided that she would ensure that my body wouldn't have to be next to the bodies of my abusers. She didn't want there to be anything remarkable about their graves," Peter said. "It's the most vicious thing I think Talia ever did, besides refusing their deathbed requests to see her children. This mausoleum was built in the 1600s by the first Hale to settle in this area. We've only ever used marble from the same quarry to ensure continuity when creating additions and have purchased enough of the land here in the cemetery that we'll be able to continue expanding it for a long as there are Hales to get buried inside." He explained.

Turning to face Stiles, Peter continued, "My parents are two of only three Hales not to be buried in that mausoleum."

"Who was the other one?" Stiles asked, engrossed in the story.

"Bloody Benjamin Hale," Peter said. "He was an outlaw and a murderer. His crimes were so bad that the town hung him, beheaded his corps, had it drawn and quartered, then brought the pieces to the ocean and threw them in. Their goal was to ensure he would be damned for all eternity for what he did."

"That sounds like a Creepypasta," Stiles said skeptically.

"It's true… I'll have to show you the stuff we have on it. It's pretty amazing," Peter replied. "But that's not the reason I brought you here. I wanted you to meet these two. For better or worse, they're the reason I became who I became. Had they not been such horrifically bad parents to me, I wouldn't have met Chris and I wouldn't have met you. So while I am hoping that if there's a Hell, they're barbecuing away in it, I must admit I owe them a small debt of gratitude."

He pulled Stiles in tightly. The familiar contours of each other's bodies pressed against one another with only small layers of fabric to separate them. The kiss was breathtaking in its intensity and longing. Peter's mouth tasted sweet as his surprisingly soft lips parted and their tongues danced their elegant _pas de deux_.

Peter's hands moved along Stiles' back, gripping his loose shirt into his closing fist as he fought to restrain himself to merely kissing. Stiles didn't want the kiss to ever end, but when it did, he slowly opened his eyes. It was still quite dark, but the moonlight made it possible to see the outline of Peter's features. Stiles placed his hands on the sides of Peter's face and brought him back in for one more kiss.

"You kissed me like you were saying goodbye," Stiles said after.

Peter sighed. "In a way, I'm scared that I am. I'm happy for you and Derek. I love both of you so fucking much… but if truth be told, I'm terrified."

"Why?" Stiles asked.

"Because I see the way you look at him. It's the way you used to look at me. I'm scared that one day you're going to wake up and realize that you don't need me or Chris anymore," Peter admitted. "You're marrying into my family, but you're not marrying me and I wish there was a way for you to do both, but there isn't."

Stiles hugged Peter tightly. Even in the darkness, he could tell that Peter felt vulnerable. That's probably why he decided to do this in the dark, anyway. Peter hated being vulnerable. He had been vulnerable for half his life and he did a great job of hiding it from the world now that he had people who truly loved him. Beneath the V-neck shirts, the acerbic wit, and seemingly insatiable lust was simply a man who needed, above everything else and with every tiny atom of his being, to know that he was loved by the people he'd found it within himself to love.

"You and I learned the hard way that we can't live without one another," Stiles said softly. "Me marrying Derek won't change that. You're my drug, Peter, for better or for worse. Maybe you'll be the death of me, but I know I won't survive without you."

Desperate tears ran down Peter's face. "Do you promise?" he asked. "Please… Stiles. I can't live my life without you in it. Can you promise me that I'll never have to?"

Stiles took Peter's hands in his own. "Peter Anthony Hale, I promise to forever be your lover, your friend, your companion, your student, your accomplice in mischief, and your shoulder to cry on. I promise to be whatever you need me to be whenever you need it as a show of my eternal and undying love for you. If I break this vow, all of your ancestors may punish me for it. Even your asshole parents."

Peter drew a ragged breath. "Then, Mieczslaw Stilinski," he said, pronouncing Stiles' real first name with flawless execution. "I promise to prove every single day that I am deserving each vow you made to me. I promise to fall in love with you a little more and a little newer with every day that passes. I promise to always be exactly what you need me to be without question and without hesitation."

They kissed. Deeply. Passionately. Desperately. When it broke, Peter wiped away the tears. The moment was getting too intense—too real—for Peter, so he decided to cut the tension with a joke. "So was that a hard no to the cemetery sex?"

It saddened Stiles that Peter couldn't stay in that moment with him, but he took the cue. "Yes. But when we are _not_ in a cemetery, I'll let you have your filthy way with me."

"One last piece of business, then," Peter said, turning away from Stiles. There was the sound of a zipper, some fidgeting, and then the unmistakable sound of Peter pissing. He did his best to equally target both graves. "Feel free to join in," he said to Stiles, over his shoulder. Stiles politely declined. After what seemed like an eternity, Peter finished and tucked himself back into his pants and zipped up. "Maybe they'll feel it from Hell."

"So when are you going to bring Derek here?" Stiles asked as they walked back to the car.

"I'm not. I've never brought Chris, either."

"Why me?" Stiles asked.

"I wanted there to be something that was ours alone."

When they got back to the Hale mansion, it was well after midnight. Derek was in his old bedroom with Chris. They were cuddled closely together. Peter and Stiles settled in Peter's old room. Once the door was closed, Peter wasted no time in pulling off their clothes, showering Stiles' mouth, face, neck, chest with kisses. The intensity of Peter's touch told the boy that he wouldn't be sleeping tonight.

He was no stranger to pulling all-nighters with Peter. His older lover had a nearly superhuman ability to fuck for hours on end without needing to stop, even after he climaxed. Stiles' body was always sore the next day, as much from the constant pounding and friction as from the abnormal contortions he was placed in so that Peter could access him at the desired angles. Knowing how much Peter enjoyed it, however, made every bit of the pain worth it.

Peter threw Stiles down on the bed. After applying lube to them both, he pushed Stiles' legs up toward his head and plunged his cock into the boy. Stiles bit his lip and stifled the urge to cry out from the intense mixture of pleasure and pain. Peter began with gentle rolls of his hips, not moving too much, just enough to help Stiles adjust to the feeling of fullness.

After several long minutes of that position, Peter pulled out just long enough to flip Stiles over. The boy barely had time to register the change in position before Peter was back inside, trying to go deeper and further into Stiles than he'd ever been. He pounded hard for twenty minutes as he nibbled the boy's earlobe and neck. With his left hand Stiles reached up and massaged the back of Peter's neck. With the other, he reached behind and firmly grasped one of Peter's ass cheeks.

"Do you like that?" Peter asked.

"Uh-huh!" Stiles grunted.

"Say it," Peter whispered. "Tell me what you want me to do to you."

"Fuck me…" Stiles whimpered.

"I don't believe you want it," Peter teased.

"I do," Stiles insisted.

"Convince me."

"Peter please…"

Peter responded by grinding his hips further into the boy. Even he didn't think he'd ever been so deep inside his young lover. "Do you feel your Daddy's hard cock inside you? How many times am I going to fuck you tonight, I wonder?"

This was unfair. Peter knew how much he loved this sort of talk. "Fuck me, Daddy! Harder!"

"When you're on the plane tomorrow, I'm going to be leaking out of you the whole flight," he said. "Maybe I'll renew my membership on the mile-high club. I could induct you into it." Peter bit down onto Stiles' shoulder as pulled nearly completely out and slammed himself all the way back in, eliciting a groan of agonizing pleasure from the boy as he erupted the first orgasm into the boy. It didn't slow Peter down in the slightest.

For the remainder of the night, Peter kept Stiles in the Bermuda Triangle between bliss, agony, and exhaustion.

When dawn's first tendrils of light filtered through the window, Stiles was on his side, his knees hiked up to his chest as Peter was still thrusting at a decent pace, not having stopped for more than five minutes at a time during the last seven hours. Chris and Derek entered the room.

"We need to get going if we're going to make it to the airport in time," Chris said.

"Give me a few more minutes," Peter replied, returning kisses to his young lover whose neck, shoulders, and back were covered in bruises that had formed from the biting. After another ten or so minutes of rapid thrusting, Peter came for the 16th time. As he pulled out, Stiles leaked the copious amounts of Peter's seed.

He was so tired and so sore, but ultimately sated. Peter left one final kiss on his cheek before heading off to shower. Stiles tested his limbs, ensuring they still actually worked. He groaned as he moved.

"Are you alright?" Derek asked, taking a cloth to help clean up a bit.

"Yeah," Stiles replied breathlessly. "Have you ever had an all-nighter with Peter?"

"Not quite," Derek replied.

"Well you should," Stiles advised. "It's life-changing."

"You're bruised," Derek noted. Stiles saw the bites as having been part of their rough, single-minded pursuit of the combination of pain and pleasure.

"Yeah… he likes to bite sometimes. It feels good, but the bruises take forever to go away," Stiles replied.

"What did you guys do? You were gone so late, Chris and I fell asleep," Derek asked.

"Peter showed me his parents' graves," Stiles said softly. "He's also worried that if you and I get married, he'll lose me. He's terrified of it, Derek. I think he sees how close we've grown and the fact that you and I are getting married as me slowly letting go of him."

"Ah," Derek sighed. He moved around the room, packing up Stiles' things and getting them ready for the journey back home.

Peter appeared in the doorway with a towel around his waist, still dripping water from his shower. "It's all yours, sexy. I even left some hot water for you."

Stiles smiled and headed to clean himself off, leaving Derek alone with his uncle.

Peter shut the door and unfastened the towel, finishing up the process of drying off. Derek watched unabashedly. He was certainly no stranger to Peter's naked body… in fact, he was quite a fan of it.

Noticing his nephew's gaze, Peter said, "If we had more time, I'd give you a quickie before we left… but we really don't."

Derek didn't react to that statement. Instead, he asked, "Are you okay with me marrying Stiles? Like… _really_ okay with it? If you're not, please say so now before mom pours all of this money into the wedding."

"Of course I'm okay with it," Peter said, stopping in his tracks. "I love you two and I'm happy to see you happy."

"I know what it's like to be present at a wedding and wanting to marry the groom, despite not being able to for one reason or another," Derek reminded him. "I love you both too much… but if it'll cause any issues between you two…"

Peter stood in front of his nephew and put his hands on the younger man's shoulders. "I want you and Stiles to have as happy and supportive of a marriage as I have with Chris. When you find that person… there's nothing like it, Der. I can't even try to describe it, but if you know what I mean, then you have it."

Derek thought about it. He was pretty certain he _did_ understand what his uncle was saying and he had that with Stiles. "Thank you, Peter," he said softly and leaned forward to kiss his uncle.

Peter resumed the process of getting dressed. "What brought this on, anyway? You're not getting cold feet, are you?"

"Stiles mentioned that you were worried about you and him," Derek admitted.

"Well, did he also tell you that he and I made some vows of our own and that he and I are okay now?" Peter asked. "Because we're fine. I promise."

* * *

Derek's "Bachelor Party"

Peter started the night by sucking his nephew's cock. Derek loved his uncle's hot, wet mouth around his shaft as he fucked up into the man's throat. Peter even allowed Derek to top twice, but the rest of the night was spent with Derek alternating his positions, but having his tight hole pounded by Peter.

This, Derek realized, is what Stiles had meant by an all-nighter with Peter. He had a wedding the next day and yet he feared that Peter would make sure that he didn't sleep one bit. He was growing okay with it, though, as he encouraged his uncle to fuck him harder and faster. He felt load after load surge into his backside until Peter's orgasms were entirely dry, his body unable to keep up with the demand he was placing on it.

The feeling of Peter's sweaty, muscular body moving up and alongside his own was a special pleasure in and of its own. "We're gonna keep doing this after I'm married, right?" Derek asked.

"Of course," Peter growled into his nephew's ear. "It'll be even dirtier because I'll stare into your husband's eyes as I'm fucking the shit out of you." He drove himself nearly painfully deep as if to punctuate the statement.

Peter pulled him into an upright position and picked up the pace. Derek stared into the mirror. His uncle's strong arms were wrapped around his chest and abdomen. His body gave slight tremors as each thrust caused his own cock and balls to dance. Peter smiled in the mirror as he watched his nephew's face betray the ecstasy he felt.

He kissed and bit the bridge of skin that connected Derek's shoulders and neck. "You're so beautiful, Derek… and you're so tight… my cock fits inside you like you were made especially for it."

This kind of talk drove Derek wild, because he believed and hoped it to be true. He had a bit of jealousy that Stiles' virginity had been taken by Peter, whereas he had fucked the first girl who was willing to spread her legs for him and was fucked by the first man named Peter willing to bend him over.

"What do you think Chris is doing to your fiancé right now?" Peter asked.

All either of them knew of their plan was that Chris had rented out an entire dungeon for the evening and would be using it to _train_ Stiles. As Hales, Peter and Derek preferred to just get straight to the matter at hand. The Hale libido allowed them to fuck for as long as they wanted… which Derek feared might even consist of the walk down the aisle. Peter was, after all, his Best Man.

Peter did, however, have compassion for the fact that tomorrow, Derek deserved to look his best. A little after 4:00 AM, they finally stopped so that they might be able to get some sleep.

* * *

Stiles' "Bachelor Party"

One piece of rope pulled Stiles' arms backwards while the other fastened his feet in front of him. A _whoosh_ of air followed was by a loud _crack_ and an explosion of pain from his backside. "One, sir. May I have another?" Stiles said.

 _Whoosh_. _Crack_. "Two, sir. May I have another?" This continued until they reached 15. Stiles wasn't intelligible in his attempt to request the 16th.

Chris lightly ran his fingers over the hot red flesh. "So beautiful," he remarked. "You took those so well, but I want to get to twenty. Can you make it to twenty?" Stiles was trembling with tears running down his cheeks. His cock was rock hard. He nodded. "I'll do the counting for you," Chris said.

Each explosion of pain was followed by Chris reciting the number and asking Stiles if he wanted another. Stiles couldn't speak, so he nodded and his request was met by Chris who promptly obliged. In this fashion, they made it all the way to 30, far beyond what Chris had intended. Stiles' body trembled violently and his face was as red as his ass cheeks. The way his arms and legs were tied made it difficult, but not impossible, to breathe. Chris knelt down in front of Stiles, his lips mere millimeters away from the glistening, dripping head of the boy's cock. He slowly licked and sucked at it, keeping a steady eye on his young lover's reactions. Stiles would not be allowed to come until the end of the night. Chris was going to ensure that.

The boy thrashed in frustration as Chris quickly pulled off his cock in the moments before the orgasm came. This was the sixth time Chris had done that. He cried out. He wanted to come more than anything. "Please…" he begged. "Please just let me come."

"Not until you've earned it," Chris replied. He stood and untied Stiles who fell to his knees without the support of the rope keeping his arms up. He wrapped his arms around Christopher's leather-bound leg and pressed his head against it. He needed to feel his Dom's body against his, just or this moment. Chris indulged him, petting his sweat-slicked hair as the boy caught his breath and took a well-earned break. There had been several times already when Chris had been almost certain Stiles would use the Red Light. Instead, the sub encouraged the Dom to go further. In all the times they'd practiced BDSM activities, never had they taken it this far or gone on for this long. As a reward, Chris decided that when he did finally allow Stiles to come, he'd make sure it was an orgasm befitting the boy's commitment to their play.

Once Stiles was able to catch his bearings, Chris had him climb into the bed and secured his arms to a spot above his head and tied his legs open in a spread-eagle position, leaving the boy's bright red ass and inviting pink hole completely exposed. The Dom spent a fair amount of time teasing the opening with his fingers, lips, and tongue. He wasn't going to fuck the hole just yet, but that didn't mean he would leave it empty and wanting. Stiles whimpered as he saw the dildo Chris produced. It was massive… much larger than anything he had ever taken, save maybe for the few instances he'd allowed Chris to fist him.

Chris slathered the large object with lubricant and used his fingers to ensure that there was a decent amount of lube inside the boy. "Just breathe and relax," Chris said as he slowly worked the blunt head of the dildo into the boy's tight hole.

"It's so big," Stiles whimpered. "I really don't think it's gonna fit…"

"You'll make it fit, Stiles… just relax. Let it in," Chris urged in a remarkably soft voice. "Let it in like you let me or Derek or Peter in. Pretend it's all three of us if you have to."

Stiles closed his eyes and took deep breaths. Slowly, the head disappeared into Stiles. The dildo was 14 inches in length and Chris was determined to ensure that every bit of it ended up in the boy, no matter how long it took. Little by little, Stiles swallowed it into him. He grunted and trembled. Chris gave him a play-by-play of the progress. Stiles' hands were balled into tight fists. "It's so big," he wept. "Oh fuck, it's so huge…"

"You're almost done, Stiles… you're daddy's good little slut… only a couple more inches to go and you'll have it all the way inside you," Chris said, lost in his dirty talk. It turned both men on more and spurred Stiles to try harder to take the rest. "Does it feel good wrecking you?" Stiles struggled and grunted as the last of it was pushed into him. He could feel the muscles of his ass trying in vain to close or dislodge the intruding object. Stiles panted, trying to keep enough oxygen going to his head as his body attempted to process this change. He could feel himself dipping into subspace as Chris added two more swats to each of his ass cheeks, to ensure the bright red hue remained.

Stiles stared at the ceiling as Chris did something with his back turned to the sub. Stiles figured it was useless being nosey. He'd find out soon enough… or perhaps too soon. Chris pulled a rolling tray with a lube bottle that Stiles had never seen. It had a medical symbol on it, though. Chris grasped Stiles' cock firmly with his left hand and brought a long metal rod to the tip of it. It looked as though it had been greased. Chris dipped the tip of the rod into Stiles' piss slit. "The key," Chris explained, "is to let gravity do most of the work… forcing it can cause pain.

It didn't exactly feel great with gravity doing the work. It was the most unique sensation he'd ever experienced. He didn't know if he liked it or not. When the rod had finally reached the furthest it could go, Chris removed it and repeated it with a wider rod. Stiles very nearly came when the second rod was removed, but he was certain Chris had known that and actively worked against it. When he saw the thickness and length of the third rod, his eyes widened. "Chris no… that's way too big."

"It'll fit, I promise you," Chris replied. "Do you want to use the red light?"

Stiles considered it, but he gave permission for Chris to continue. To his shock and confusion, Chris started by inserting one end of the rod into himself and allowing it to slowly travel down. He climbed into a position so that he could easily put the other end to Stiles' cock. He eased it in and brought it to the point where both men's cocks were touching, each impaled by the same metal sounding rod.

"Feel that connection, Stiles?" Chris asked. "You're such a good slut for your Daddy that you'll let me into whichever hole I choose. Isn't that right?"

Stiles' eyes lolled. He couldn't imagine that this actually felt _good_. "Yes, Daddy," Stiles moaned. Chris fucked the boy's piss slit with the rod before carefully removing it, once again bringing the boy to the very precipice of orgasm. He took a few minutes to fuck the boy with the giant dildo, reminding him that it was still very much lodged inside… as if Stiles could forget that.

"Do you want to come?" Chris asked. Stiles nodded emphatically. "Do you think you've earned that privilege?"

"Yes sir… I've been a good boy, haven't I?" Stiles responded.

"Oh yes, my pet," Chris replied as he stroked the boy's head. "Such a good slut for Daddy. But maybe I should just put your cock in a cage until you get back from your honeymoon. Derek's already going to feel how loose you are tomorrow when he tries to fuck you on your wedding night. I wonder if you will even be able to walk down the aisle after I'm done with your hole."

"No!" Stiles pleaded. "No… no… please! I've been a good slut. I want to come… I'll do anything… I'll let you do anything, just please let me come!"

"Since you begged so nicely," Chris teased. "How should I do it? Should I stroke you? Should I suck you? Should I ride your dick and let you shoot inside me?" Stiles nodded, loving every one of those suggestions. Chris didn't intend to do any of the three. Instead, he fucked Stiles even harder with the dildo, pulling it nearly completely out and ramming it back up in. The boy's hips bucked and squirmed as his body struggled with the dilemma of getting away from the intrusive object or embracing the pleasure it could bring if he stopped fighting it.

It took a while for Stiles to realize that _this_ was how he was going to be allowed to come… that he had to give himself over completely to the giant replica cock tearing at his insides. With his hands bound, he couldn't help himself. Still, his cock continued to twitch. His hips began to buck as if to help Chris with the fucking.

The spray from his climax hit the ceiling and the contortions of his body nearly brought him completely of the bed. "FUUUUUUUUUUCK!" he screamed. White seed continued to shoot in ropes from his untouched cock, covering him with the sticky goo. Watching the orgasm happen was an intense enough experience for Chris. He couldn't imagine what it might have been like for Stiles to experience it.

After coming, the dildo hurt inside him. "Red light," he panted. "Please… please take it out."

Chris slowly eased it out of the boy, staring into the wrecked, gaping hole once the toy was freed. Stiles' body tried to close the over-stretched opening, but it couldn't just yet. He untied his sub and crawled into the bed beside him, pulling the boy's naked body close against his own leather-clad one. Stiles was still trembling. Chris gave the boy little kisses and caresses, whispering to him how proud he was of the sub. How beautiful the boy was… how much he loved him… how much he hoped that the marriage that would begin tomorrow would bring Stiles as much happiness as his own marriage to Peter.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay.... so there's going to be ONE more installment after this one with the wedding and the happily ever afters. But until then, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and PLEASE let me know what you thought!


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